Enchantment
by Nephthys Snape
Summary: Bilbo/Gandalf. One-Shot. Theirs isn't the wisest of relationships, perhaps, but quiet moments together are something to hold tight to.


Disclaimer - I make no claim on the characters or the world. This is not for profit, just for fun.

* * *

Being back in the Shire always brought warmth to Gandalf's heart. Hobbits were such extraordinary creatures, none more so than his dear Bilbo. The Wizard had not been to visit in over six months, and he knew without doubt Bilbo was going to be quite cross with him. As understanding as the Hobbit was, he was as prone to fancy and 'if only's, even when he knew they couldn't be realized.

Gandalf would receive a small scolding, and Bilbo would let it go. Though, in the back of those expressive eyes the Wizard would see it, the sadness his visits brought. The both knew he could never stay for too long, and it could be months or a year before he'd return again. The Wizard knew he should stop it, change the definition of their friendship and not come as often, if only to spare his dear Hobbit and allow Bilbo to turn his attention elsewhere. But, Gandalf couldn't.

Plodding along the narrow paths toward Bag End, he could see Bilbo puffing on his pipe and stretching as he enjoyed the late morning sun. It reminded Gandalf of years past and an adventure, the very one that saw him starting up these, for him at any rate, frequent visits to Hobbiton and Bag End.

He thought also of the letters he carried for the Hobbit, from Dwarf and Elf and Man. They always lit up Bilbo's face so completely that it would bring a tear to the Wizard's eye. In those moments, and in many others, he knew he could never change anything, as much as it might be for the better.

Coming to a stop outside the gate, he leaned against his staff and smiled at Bilbo. "Hello, Bilbo."

"You're late." Bilbo pointed the tip of his pipe at him before placing it back in his mouth.

"My dear Bilbo, I've told you before, a Wizard is never late. He arrives exactly when he is meant to." He smiled and moved through the gate, easing himself down beside the Hobbit on the small bench. "But, for curiosities sake, what am I late for?"

He knew the answer before it was given. "It's been nearly seven and a half months," Bilbo said around his pipe before pulling it away to blow a smoke ring.

Gandalf sighed softly. "I know, _melindo_." He placed a gentle hand on the Hobbit's leg, his hand covering more than half Bilbo's thigh.

"Seven and a half _months_, Olórin," he glowered up at the Istari, eyes tired and sad as much as relieved and happy. "And only word _once_."

"I apologize, Bilbo." He moved his hand, putting his arm around the Hobbit's shoulders. "I have missed you, do not doubt, and if I could ever be at your side, I would."

The Hobbit sighed and leaned into him, resting his head against the Wizard's chest. "I know, I just… I never worry that you are dead, but I worry of other things. I am old, Gandalf. I'm no longer the youth that searched for Wlves or the middle aged Hobbit that raced after Dwarves. One day you may return and find me not here at all."

Gandalf felt his chest tighten as his lungs and heart stopped for a moment. It was true, he knew, that Bilbo was getting older, and that he was mortal, but usually he chose to overlook that. It was too painful to think about. To know that Bilbo worried on it, hurt the Wizard. "You are not so old, Bilbo Baggins. You've many years yet left to you." He rubbed the Hobbit's arm as he drew him tighter against his side.

How many years, there was no way of knowing. Bilbo was moving into old age now, having turned eighty-one some eight months back. "I feel old," the Hobbit told him.

"Maybe a trip to Rivendell would liven your spirits. It is where I'm heading, after here." It would allow them more time together, even though it would make their parting all the harder when the time came. The longer he was with Bilbo, the more he wanted to stay. He had never been under the spell of another the way he was with the Hobbit.

Bilbo sighed and sat up, looking away from him. "And how long until you leave?" He asked quietly, voice sounding so small and utterly defeated.

The Wizard cursed himself. His mouth had run away with him. He didn't usually have that problem, least ways with anyone else. Oh, sure, sometimes he _seemed_ to let it run away with him, but he always knew what he was doing, saying things that needed said. This had not needed said, not yet. "Not for some time," he settled on as answer.

"You'll let me know, in advance?" The Hobbit still held his gaze averted from Gandalf.

"I always do." His long fingers brushed at Bilbo's hair. He'd learned to tell him after the first few times. It was best to not mention leaving until it was only days, a week at most, away. Bilbo could lie to himself, for a little while, that way. Really, it wasn't healthy for either one of them, this thing they did, but neither one of them seemed willing to stop.

The Hobbit sighed and again leaned his head over on the Wizard's chest. "I'll… consider it."

Gandalf moved his fingers from petting to carding through his Hobbit's hair, teasing the shell of an ear absently. He smirked when Bilbo gave a soft sigh that sound far much more like a gentle coo. It never ceased to fascinate him the sounds he could draw from his friend. But outside was not the place to think such things. Bilbo would have none of it.

"Let's not worry about it now. Tell me, how is young Frodo?" Bilbo was downright taken with his three year old cousin, as Gandalf had seen at their joint birthday the year before.

"Growing like a weed and running poor Drogo ragged. Prim gets far too much amusement out of it." He shook his head. "He's a good boy and so smart."

"I look forward to seeing how much he's grown." The conversation seemed to end there, falling into silence; a comfortable quiet where they were alone in the world and concerned only for one another and enjoying just being side by side.

Bilbo rested against him for quite some time more until the sun found its way close to the horizon. "It's time I get supper ready." He finally sat up. "I'll make some tea, as well." A smile brightened his face softly as he moved to stand, leaning up once on his feet to gift the Wizard with the barest of kisses to his whiskered cheek.

Gandalf smiled and followed the Hobbit inside, putting the letters in his pocket on Bilbo's desk before going to sit in the kitchen and watch Bilbo. The usual urge to travel, to see and protect Middle Earth was like a faint echo in his mind. He had to make himself stay aware of it, of his duty. It would be far too easy to lose himself to the Shire… to a Hobbit in a hole in the ground.


End file.
